more nerd soup

Good To The Core

2006-11-27T18:52:00.000-08:00

The air is crisp, a pull-your-coat-tight kind of cool. My front stoop is layered in leaves from my Japanese Maple tree. It's only seven o'clock and I already want to crawl in bed to spend some quality time with my book. These are all signs that it's Fall, whispering of the Winter to come. I've already made a couple pots of soup to keep me warm. As lovely as soup is, Fall is the time for apples to come center stage and put on their marvelous show.

Apples come in a variety of colors and textures. Be they green, gold, or red, I think they're all beautiful. Ironical two of the worst apples I've ever had are the Red Delicious and Golden Delicious . Trust me, the name is really misleading. Unless they are VERY fresh and ice cold, they aren't worth the energy to chew. They embody the worst possible fate for an apple....mushy!

On my trip in New Zealand, Nancy and I came across this roadside apple stand. Nobody was there to give money to, but the box on the apple display made it obvious where to put it. Of course we skreeched the car to a stop to pick up some apples, happily parting with the change in my pocket. Honor system payment rules!

I once went with my friend Scotty to the Applefest at the Applecrest Farm in Hampton Falls, New Hampshire. The orchard is the oldest and largest in New Hampshire. It's been around since 1913, giving the Wagner family plenty of time to master the art of apple growing, which they have. Damn perfect apples. When Scotty and I went there, we ate every apple thing we could get our hands on: Apple Pie, Apple Cider Donuts, Apple Crisp, and Caramel Apples. Ohhh belly-aching bliss. The "fest" workers had a shirt that I wanted oh so bad. I was ready to trade some greenbacks for it, but alas, it was not for sale. You needed to volunteer there at the fest to get one. I offered to do dishes or schlep apple barrels around, but they weren't interested. No shirt for me. Scotty kept a look out for the shirt on E-Bay for years following, but to no avail. Thanks for trying Scotty!

I never thought a day would come when I would find an apple better than the Fuji, but it happened. I'd like to introduce you to the Honeygold Apple. Wow. Sweet, crunchy, and so much more. If you're a Fuji fan, have a little fun and set up a taste test with these two contestants. A great way to spend a fall afternoon.

Lastly keep your eye out for the Jazz apple. It is the new thing from New Zealand. It's a cross between a Gala and a Braeburn. I haven't come across them myself, but I hear good things. Drop me a line if you get your mouth around one. I'd love to know how they taste. Did you hear Miles Davis as your teeth sunk in?

The Depatment of Doing

2006-11-26T09:19:00.000-08:00

The "Department of Doing", in New Zealand, is one of the funniest offices I've ever seen. I didn't go inside to further investigate. Just the idea alone that a whole department was dedicated to "Doing", was enough for me. Being a big "do-er" myself, this is something I could really get behind. But really, what do they do in the "Department of Doing"? What services do they offer? Is there a 24 hour hotline that citizens can call when they are bored and can't think of any activities to entertain themselves? Maybe the have tutorials on effectively making To-Do lists. Perhaps a weekly philosophical lecture on how just living and breathing is doing something.

A Butt In The Oven

2006-11-07T17:45:00.000-08:00

In honor of the upcoming cold months, I am going to tell a tale of that illustrates the true cost of heat. As most of you know, I live in an old house, a house so old that it only has heat in one room. It gets so cold in our house that you can literally see your breath while walking down the hallway. Like a good human, I have learned to adapt to my surroundings, in this case becoming creative in my heating methods. When I am in the kitchen, I typically crank the gas oven on to broil and get the kitchen up to a nice toast 72degrees. When I am really greedy and this isn't enough, I not only have the oven going full force, I stick my butt on the ledge of the open oven door. Being this close to the heat source is addicting. One night when my friend Scotty was over for dinner, I was doing the butt-in-the-oven routine. We were chatting away, having just mad a big boiling pot of stew, which I moved to the counter to cool. Upon returning from setting down the soup pot, I stuck my butt back in the oven. A few words into my next sentence and sliparoo, my socked feet came out from under me. The oven opened its hungry mouth and I fell all the way in. My weight on the door, pulled the oven on top of me. Both Ric and Scotty ran to my rescue, though I wasn't hurt in the least. I felt a fool. I glanced over at the soup pot, thanking my lucky stars that I had just removed it. I was so close to having boiling soup all over my skin. Phew. The door to the oven now won't shut all the way. I see this as a reminder of the comical, yet slightly frightening night I fell into the oven. For the record, I haven't done it since. My ego still is bruised for the ridiculous display I made when I fell. To all those folks out there without heaters who are getting ready for a cold winter, get a space heater, buy a hot water bottle, or put on an extra coat. I don't recommend sticking your butt in the oven, as tempting as it is.

My Ladies

2006-11-05T09:24:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to give a shout out to my ladies. These two chickadees are the best in what friendship has to offer. We've already got lots of adventures under out belts, like snow trips and Oaxaca, but there are still so many more to be had. No matter what we're doing, it's always good. It can just be walking around the hills of SF chatting or throwing hypothetical questions back and forth over Vietnamese food. Life's growing pains & bumps feel a lot less scary with these Sabrina and Erica at my side. It's a wonderful feeling, knowing that I've got these two in my corner cheering me on through the hard times and calling me on my shit when I need it. Thanks ladies for being as silly, adventurous, thoughtful, and marvelous as you are. I look forward to being 80 years old together, reminiscing about Sabrina's dumpster diving, Erica's disdain for thrift stores, and my obsession with good eats.

Tea and Friendship

2006-11-02T15:56:00.000-08:00

When you want to frolic in lace and mismatched tea cups, Lovejoy's Tea Room is the place to go. It's full of sugar, spice and all the things that make girls nice. The food is lovely and dainty, but it still fills you up. My friend Sarah and I went here a few days ago to indulge in bottomless pots of Rooibos Tea, while catching up on too many months of separation. Sipping tea tastes better when you are with a friend, and have all the time in the world to chat about life, love, and everything else. Something I really love about this tea "room" is its grandma's attic feel: Mismathced everything... Chairs, tables, linens, cups, saucers, silverware, lamps, etc. It feels like home, buzzing loudly like a hive full of ladies.

We went for the High Tea for Two, which comes with four Tea Sandwiches, Rye Coleslaw, Spring Greens with Balsamic Vinaigrette, Warm Scones with Double Devon Cream and Strawberry Preserves, and Shortbread Tea Biscuits ($32). There are a lot of sandwich options to choose from, including our choices of Cucumber and Cream Cheese, Chicken Apple Walnut Salad, Artichoke Hummus, and Pear with Stilton Cheese. Even though this seems like enough food, we couldn't pass up the Petits Fours plate when it came around.

Did I mention that the tea pots are bottomless, so drink up my friend. If you go the caffeine route, you can be up all night doing those projects that you keep back-burnering.
It's never too early to start thinking of what to do for Mother's Day. What mother wouldn't love an afternoon of tea with her daughter. If you don't want to wait that long, and I wouldn't blame ya for it, take the restaurant on a test drive with a friend first. Lovejoy's Tea Room is located at 1351 Church St, San Francisco. Call for reservations 415-648-5895.

Rockin' Until The Witching Hour

2006-10-31T20:33:00.000-08:00

On the recommendation of a coworker, I went to see the play "Love, Janis" about Janis Joplin's life. I got inspired, well actually a bit pressured too, by my friend Cheryl, to be Janis for Halloween. Cheryl fulfilled one of her goals from the last decade: she was Angus from AC/DC. A great Halloween was had decorating "creepy cupcakes" in the SF avenues, followed by attending a wild party in Marin until 2:30 in the morning. I haven't been up past the witching hour in too long. It sure felt good.

Mi Profesora

2006-10-20T08:36:00.000-07:00

There were lots of activities one could do after Spanish school in Oaxaca, Salsa Dancing, Backstrap Weavinig, Mexican History, and Cooking, to name a few. You can guess which one I wanted to take. The frugal side of me also factored in the free meal that was to be had four days a week at dinner time.

We started our cooking course with a trip to the main Mercado in Oaxaca. We took a sloooooow bus, crowded with folks. It would have been much faster to just walk, but our little old teacher had to make two trips that day, and understandably wasn't into hoofing it. The market presented many culinary mysteries and delights. I partook of some Burnt Milk Ice Cream (Leche Quemada), which wasn't so tasty, but is a local favorite. I declined the offer of crispy crickets, but loved the homemade mixed nut bars made from honey and sesame/pumpkin seeds. We also got to eat some chocolate from the Mayordomo, the largest and most popular chocolate company in Oaxaca. I bought a couple of bars and an uber-rich chocolate milk shake that got me mildly belly aching.

Mercedes, my cooking teacher, loves food as much as me, and was delight to share in the adventure and enthusiasm. After eating our way through the market, we returned to the classroom. Over the next several weeks we made Tamales con Yerba Santa (a delicious anise flavored leaf that can't be purchased in the USA), Arroz con Leche, Memalitas (like little corn tortilla bowls topped with beans, cheese, cilantro, salsa and onions), Refried Black Beans with Chepil (another leafy plant only found in Oaxaca). We also learned how to make many of the traditional sauces, which consist of a variation of tomatillos, onions, garlic, salt, and chile. Lots of their sauce of "fried" in corn oil. Strange but true. It does make a difference in the flavor.

I adored my cooking teacher. All four feet 3 of her. On the last day of class, we did a covert exchange of pesos for her photocopied cook book of special recipes. (The Institute of Oaxaca frowned down on any selling of merchandise from teachers. They banned it, even if the student requested it.) I've tried to recreate the recipes back in San Francisco, but they just don't turn out the same. This is partially due to the lack of crucial ingredients like Chepil and Yerba Santa. Without Mercedes on my side, reprimanding and encouraging me in Spanish, my salsa doesn't have the same sizzle. Gracias por todo Mercedes.

How Does Your Garden Grow

2006-10-18T08:36:00.000-07:00

I love my yard. I grew up with dirt on my hands. My father is an awesome gardener and can talk soil enrichment with the best of them. When I was little, he would take me to work with him, where I would get to help plant trees and pull the lever on dump truck. He was in charge of the landscaping on the side of the freeway in Arcata. Years later, I drive by and think about the trees we planted together. Sorry I am digressing here. My dad and I share a strong bond to plant life cultivation. Most everything I know about planting, pruning, and picking, I learned from him.

When I moved to San Francisco from Arcata, I was tentative about not having my own patch of dirt to play with. For my first few years here, it was true. My green thumb was confined to anything I could put in a container on our front stairs. It all changed when I moved into my friend Scotty's place: an old Victorian with a huge backyard. Hardwood floors, high ceilings, and tons of dirt to play with. For the last several years, I've been out in the yard pulling weeds, planting seeds, and enjoying the tranquility that comes with listening to the birds with my hands full of fresh picked lettuce.

I feel that I am very fortunate to be able to lie on my own grass in my backyard. I've got a huge city of fun and diversion out my front door, and a sprawl of urban greenery in the back. Truly I have the best of both worlds. This winter will bring with it lots of kitchen time, pots and cookie sheets a'flyin. I will make a salad with the lemons, apples, and fresh herbs in my yard. Here's to still wanting to grow things in these modern times of convenience and speed. Take the time to grow something for yourself. It is a wonderful feeling watching the cycle of a plant’s life.

Staying On Track To Boyhood

2006-10-07T09:32:00.000-07:00

Lorenzo, Sabrina's munchkin, like any kid his age, is fixated on something glorious, loud, and mechanical. In his case it's trains. He talks about them all the time. If we hear one in the distance, he needs to set eyes on it. We'll run hand in had to try and find where it's tracks are, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the metal beast. He knows the names of all types of trains and will call them out to you, "That is a coal car", or "There goes an Amtrak passenger train". He can't even read yet, let alone know his abc's, but is able identify the BART logo from across the street. Sabrina, Lo, and I went on a field trip the other day. We came across the wine train, ready to take booze loving adults on a slow moving ride through the wine country. Lorenzo of course wanted to ride the train. We didn't have tickets, and Lo was a bit underage, but with both of us batting our long lashes at the ticket taker, we were able to at least go on and get a quick peek. I thought it was tacky, in a cheesy hotel way, but Lorenzo was charmed. They do say love is blind.

Bouchon

2006-10-06T11:45:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Bouchon. Not bad for being my first week working in the new store. Mill Valley leadership really knows how to make a new person feel comfortable. Myself and the other store bigwigs went to Vegas for three days of eating, show watching, hiking, and some gambling of course. Vegas is about obsuridty. It's all too big, too tacky, too expensive, but in the case in Bouchon, it was just too good to pass up. We had family style dinner in our own private room. Our waiter was over-the-top, battling with my lovely queeny boss, for the most flamboyent display of theatrics. Dana, who shares a love of food and good mixed drinks, ordered increddible Lemondrops, of which I had 3. Look at Dana with the wine list. A litinay of choices, I'll stick to the cocktails.

If you have any doubts about the quality of the food, just look at this plate. My mamma would have been proud. I myself ate an entire loaf of bread. It was hot out of the oven. My teeth pucnctured the delicately crusty outside, to reveal the perfectly moist inside. The personal tub of homemade butter wasn't bad either. I'm forgetting all the details, but it was incredible. Lots of little pots and crocks of tasty eats. The salad was an inspiringly simple mixed greens with a chamapagne vinegarette. Piles of shoestring fries aside a pan seared flatiron steak. It went on and on. Mostly eveyone at the table was sharring their stuff. We had way too much food, but you wouldn't hear me complaining. We all still managed to eat the desserts without any hessitation.

I was one happy camper after this meal. Look at me grinning in food bliss. Good food and good company are two of the best things in life. I'm thankful that I work where I do, a place that shares my passion for eating and attracts interesting and enjoyable folks that I get to work with. Sorry if this part sounds cheesy. I must be waxing nostalgic looking at these photos. Anyways go and treat yourself to something delcious to nosh on, with someone who makes you laugh.

Jam On It

2006-10-05T18:15:00.000-07:00

Blackberries seem to be here and gone before ya know it. They go from green to dried husks molding on the vine. My friend Ann and I were able to get some berries in that last stretch of usable before they just weren't worth it. Too much sun had cooked the Novato blackberries to a near crisp. We went out in our long pants and gloves, to pick a meager load. One hour of serious picking only yielded a four jars of jam, but look at them... they're beautiful! Makes me want hot toast with melty butter to do this jam some justice.

Halloween Past

2006-10-04T09:44:00.000-07:00

I got a copy of this old picture from a friend the other day. It was a Halloween night 12 years ago. I am the one on the left. I don't remember exactly what we were trying to be, but I think it was an old retired Jewish couple living in Florida. I need to come clean about something: all items that I am wearing I had in my closet. I purchased nothing for this costume. At that time I also owned three tutus and several more wigs. My closet today is very dull by comparison. The most exciting things I have are sock garters and a sixties polyester leisure suit. HAPPY HALLOWEEN MONTH. I hope you all come up with great costumes!

TOFU...Just Add Water

2006-09-04T22:28:00.000-07:00

It's tofu time, just add water. Really. It's a bit more involved than that, having a need for boiling and cooling until it sets.I found this gem in a store in Chinatown. How could I pass up a box of powdered tofu mix. I was intrigued from the second I found it. Images of past Jell-O pudding came racing into my mind. Ya know, maybe I'm on to something here. I could add chocolate powder and make a cocoFu. Yum. Just kidding. As good as vegan mousse is, I don't image chocolate tofu, sans sugar, being that delicious. Another idea I had was to pour the liquid tofu mix into some type of intriguing mold while it took shape. I would love to serve a plate of wiggly tofu shaped like a rosebud or football. Any cake mold would do.

I dropped a big $1.29 for this wondrous modern invention. It was too good to save all to myself, so I sent it to Cyn, a friend of mine who collects random culinary thingies in boxes or cans. A nice addition to the collection, don't ya think.

The Original White Shrimp Truck

2006-08-28T08:25:00.001-07:00

It's that time of year when I want a vacation. I am sitting here recycling past vacations over and over in my mind. I want heat and waves crashing on sand and I want shrimp fresh from the water to my plate. All of this is possible at Giovanni's Shrimp Truck in Kahuku, Oahu. Coming around the bend on one of Hawaii's twisty tropical freeways, this sign beckons to hungry bellies. Simple & straightforward, the sign promises of shrimp and nothing else. If the sign didn't get your attention, the gaggle of folks surrounding a graffitied truck might. You can hear the ohh's ah's and finger slurping, as the patrons suck down plates of spicy shrimp served with rice. Shrimp are never cheap, well at least in the states, and this is no exception. But I wasn't complaining about the $12 for a plate of 12 perfectly seasoned shrimp.

You've got three options: Lemon and Butter, Hot n' Spicy, or Shrimp Scampi. Wash it all down with a soda for an extra buck. Next time you're on Oahu, you have to work this into your plans. Make a day of it by doing a driving tour around the island, with Giovanni's being your ideal lunch break. If only we could get a Shrimp Truck shuffled in with all the taco trucks that populate San Francisco's streets. But I guess that's what Hawaii is for.

WHAT SWEET HAPPY CAMPERS WE WERE WITH OUR PLATE OF SHRIMP!

With The Push Of A Button

2006-08-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

I have a very sophisticated microwave. It has the usual functions like POPCORN and ENTREE, and of course the standard POTATO. If you want to heat up a PLATE OF FOOD, you're in luck cause there is a button for that too. But the real winners are the choices under the "International Foods" heading: ITALIAN, SPANISH, AND ORIENTAL. With the mere push of a button your spaghetti, rice and beans, or chow mein can be heated to perfection. But I ask myself, does each cuisines really need separate microwave functions. Think back on the examples I just gave. How would a microwave treat Spaghetti ("Italian" dish of pasta covered with veggies and sauce) different than Chow Mein ("Oriental" dish covered with veggies and sauce)? Does anyone really think that the buttons make a difference? My conclusion is that this microwave is for the true pedestrian eater. The kind of person who has no idea how to cook. Maybe a little miniature chef comes out during the reheating process to spice up the dish, adding soy sauce, tabasco, or basil, depending on what button was pushed.

Sex In The 80's

2006-08-24T22:46:00.000-07:00

Tell me the first thing you noticed were the legwarmers on both ladies. What about the dumbbell in the blonde's hand? The guys sexy yellow muscle tee? Or maybe you just couldn't get past the muff of hair! Not just a gratuitous patch or bald bump, but real hair, and plenty of it. Ah the 80's. I miss your white sneakers and feathered hairdos.

I really didn't know what to do. This image is so flipping funny, I wanted to share it. I deliberated over posting it on an otherwise foodish blog. But then, really this blog is about me an the things I find interesting. That's why my friends are reading it, not just the anonymous foodies of the world. And who is to say that a foodie out there in bloggerlandia wouldn't appreciate it? The thing that finally pushed me over the edge was my upcoming outing to the Castro Theater Digital Sex Movie Spree..all from the 80's. Three winners for a mere $10 ( "Heartbeeps", "Weird Science", and "Joysticks"). Hopefully I didn't offend anyone here. Don't worry, I don't have the rest of the deck, so this should be the only entry. Appologies to anyone viewing this at work or a the public library. Tell everyone who's looking over your shoulder, that this really isn't a pornographic site. Blame it on me, I can take it.

I Pucker Up for Steak

2006-08-24T22:27:00.000-07:00

The time was New Year's Eve. The meal was steak. Not just any slab of meat, but one that I willing to plunk down $20 for. I was tentative at first. Could a steak this expensive really be worth all that hard earned money. I took the risk and fired up the grill to find out.

The result...it wasn't good, if was f**king great. So mouth watering delicious, I had to pucker up and kiss the thing. Who would have thought that a simple salt and pepper rub on a steak would taste this incredible. I was proud of myself. Of how perfectly it was cooked, patting myself on the back, as the juices pooled on the plate aching for bread to sop em up. It was juicy, oh so juicy. Sigh. I haven't had a steak that good since. Well except the meat alley experience, but that was a whole different kind of thing.

If you're wondering what the name of the cut is, keep wondering. I am horrible at remember things like that. If I don't write them down, consider it lost. Especially since this steak was consumed 7 months ago. Bonus points to anyone who could identify it from the picture. Realize that I'd have no idea if you were right or wrong in your identification, cause I have no recollection of the name at all. I'll just agree with you, in hopes that it will make you feel smarter and good about yourself.

Oaxaca's Pan & Co: European Style Bakery

2006-08-16T09:04:00.000-07:00

One thing Mexico does not do well is bread. The bread and pastries suck. Really suck. They are illusively delicious looking and smelling, but the flavor always leaves a lot to be desired. In one simple word, they are bland. What I don't understand about bread is how using the same basic five ingredients (flour, salt, yeast, sugar and water), there can be such a range of textures and flavors. Think of all the kinds of bread around the world, and how it tastes and looks. Ah a rainbow of variety and diversity. Take this basket of bread for instance. Granted there are additional ingredients, but the flavor packed a punch.

There plain ol' regular bread, using the previously mentioned basic five, was knee-bucklingly good. Each loaf was perfectly moist and had complex flavors that changed from first teeth impression to swallowing. Unfortunately I didn't find this bread shop until my last week in Oaxaca. Pan & Co featured several of my favorite culinary memories of the city. I made a point to go there five times before leaving back to San Francisco. They made a crusty style country loaf with mushrooms that was so good adults would pull hair and poke eyes to get the last bite. I ate three loaves myself (on different day, mind you). My other mandatory purchase was the chocolate croissant, layered with just the right amount of butter, and accented with melty gooey chocolate that had me licking my fingers with glee.

The same woman worked at the bakery from opening to closing. She usually was dressed in a very formal starched white chef's coat. The day I brought my camera to take her picture, must of been "Dress casual Friday" , cause she was wearing her regular clothes. She would remove from our basket our hand-selected huge pile of starchy-delights, placing each one ever so gingerly in a bag. Take note of the large and heavily populated olive focaccia. WOW. It really hit the spot. They also had garlic rosemary focaccia (with whole garlic cloves baked in), raisin focaccia dusted with sugar, and... I know there was one more but I forgot what it was. This basket of goods was the final purchase I made from Pan & Co. I took my buys to the park, where I joined some other school buddies, Tiffany, Pam and Genovevea. We plopped ourselves on the sparse patchy grass, and began the gluten-gluttony that only " A European Style Bakery" could provided. Sorry Mexico, your bread just isn't for me.

Now That's A Potato Chip

2006-08-15T21:14:00.000-07:00

Look at em. I bet you're drooling already. Potato chips on a stick, what a marvelous idea. These would be a hit in the USA for fair and festival food. I broke out in a huge grin when I spied these stick-o-chips across the parque in Oaxaca city. At first I was a bit confused about the seasonings for the chips. The stand was also featuring jicama dipped in a variety of artificially colored and flavored sugar toppings. I thought for a second that I could have watermelon flavored potato chips. It turns out that good old fashion ketchup, salt, lime and tobacco were my topping options, but now I am getting ahead of myself. Let me first break down the way this chips work, which is so utterly cool, I kept ooohhhing and aaaahhhhing. Take a whole potato... peel it....stick it on an apparatus that spins it while slicing it into a super thin continuous coil.... stick the whole (not yet separated) potato on a stick....seperate the layers... deep fry...season and serve.

I don't want you to miss this. Did you see what I said? ONE CONTINUOUS PIECE OF POTATO. A spiral of chip that goes round and round the stick. To be accurate it should be called a potato CHIP, not CHIPS. There is no break in the chip, it just goes around and around from tippity top, to golden-browned bottom. Now I must be honest, it's a great thing to look at, but it's a pain to eat. First consider that there is ketchup dripping off the chips, all over the place. Every time you tilt the stick to get a bite, the ketchup comes sliding off onto either you or the floor. Now take a minute to recall the texture and natural state of a potato chip. They are crispy little buggers. Now picture yourself eating them off a stick. They do what chips are good at, they crumble. About 64% of the chips make it into your mouth, while the other 36% is food for pigeons. In the end, the loss of chip is a good thing. They are greasy and would give you a ragging belly ache anyways. If there are any entrepreneurs out there, I am giving you this idea for your next fortune, free of charge. Open the first United States potato chip stand, I'll even give you a name: Stick-o-Chip , Spud Spirals or Potato Popsciles. If you get rich, buy me lunch sometime.

Sick of Beignet

2006-08-14T09:38:00.000-07:00

I was tempted to call this entry "Beignet, done that" (this is pronounced "been-yea"), but I opted for something else. Couldn't totally let the idea go, so I thought I'd at least give it mention here. Cute isn't it. Now for the what you really want to read about, not just my crafty play on words. Let the beignets begin. I first had Beignets at the renowned Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans fifteen years ago. I remember loving them, lathered in sugar and piping hot. I wanted to go back to the cafe to eat them many times, but it was a long bike ride from where we were staying, a ride which was full of other temptations like hushpuppies and grits swimming in maple syrup with a side of spicy sausage. That one plate of beigents haunted me for years until a few years ago my friend Sue brought over a box of beignet mix in her backpack. Not just any mix, but mix from Cafe Du Monde. Now from the comforts of my own home, hot from my own sizzling vat of oil, I can eat beignets. We made ourselves feel ill eating too many. This indeed is the hardest part about making them at home, knowing when to stop. After that box was used, beignets fell off of my weekly menu. Once again I was without beignets, too lazy to find where to buy this box mix in SF or order it online. I waited and hopped for the best. Maybe Santa would hear my stomach rumble and leave me some in my stocking.

Years past beignet free. Then came the Ferry Building at Embarcadero. Boulette Lauder, inside the Ferry building has the BEST beignets I've ever had. Better than the prepare at home box mix or fresh from Cafe Du Monde. Just beyond gooey inside with a slightly crisp crust that has been fried to perfection and sprinkled in sugar, ready for the eating. I recommend sharing them with a friend. Oh so heavy, heavenly so. I got an order, which I split with a friend. We still felt sleepy afterwards, but that was a sacrifice we were willing to make. I will always make myself sick on donuts, be them French (Beignet), Mexican (churro), or American (donut!). I prefer mine rolled in cinnamon sugar and still warm. Every bite I eat, I know I will be paying for later, but I continue.

A Public Apology To Mushrooms

2006-08-08T18:33:00.000-07:00

For years I hated them. This was not a mild dislike and avoidance, but outright disdain. I called them bad names like "fungus" and "rot". I pointed at them with my tongue sticking out, saying ick. I would avoid them at all costs, telling anyone who liked them, that they had horrible taste in food. Why didn't they like something really delicious like corn. (Granted corn is delicious, just not that adventurous) I don't remember exactly when it happened, but one day something switched. It was a pizza, nothing gourmet, just a local pizza parlor one step above Domino's. Mixed in with salty sausage were plain white button mushrooms. I wanted that sausage and the pizza it was sitting on, so I braved the buttons. I picked most of them off, but some residue still remained. Mushrooms baked on pizza don't peel off that easy, they tend to leave bits behind. I ate these bits. But more importantly, I didn't spit them out. By the end of a couple of slices, I began to rethink my hatred for mushrooms. I though maybe I had overreached.

Over the next several years, I built up my courage to try other mushrooms. Crimini was next, fairly safe figuring it's just a brown button mushroom. Then I graduated to the more "exotic" novice mushrooms like Portobellos and Shiitakes. I loved them. Now I'll eat any mushroom put in front of me. With the same passion that I once loathed mushrooms, I now adore them. I search them out on menus, eager to find a dish which contains them. Say the word Truffle and I melt. Whisper Enoki in my ear and I'm yours. Leave a Trumpet Royale on my doorstep and I'll be forever indebted. To all of the fabulous fungus I say now I am sorry. I didn't know how great you are. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge and so slow to taste. To all the Morels, Shiitakes, Woodears, and Enokis of the world, I am on my knees in shame.

A Day At The Beach

2006-08-05T07:31:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you to Carrie Bradley, one of the treasures of this world. We have been neighbors for 8 years now. I can hear the pitter-patter of her feet upstairs and know all the holes in her socks for mutual exchange of laundry folding. During the years we've had fabulous parties in the backyard, we've planted fastidious rows of tasty greens in the vegetable garden, we've swapped stories about love, life, and lovelives. But this day we decided to go to the beach in search of old barnacle seafaring men that Carrie had met fishing a few weeks before. It's easy to forget how close Pacifica is, but really it's just a cast of the line. Before going, we grabbed our old bucket to fill with fishy-bits and swag at the Sun Fat fish market on mission street. A few bucks and bucket full of slop got us on the way to do some fishing.

When we got to Pacifica, none of the sought after fisherfolks weren't there. In fact, the pier was closed due to high waves. Truth be told, the waves weren't that high, and we would have been quite safe walking and gawking on the pier. We sadly looked at the heavy metal fence that blocked us from our destination. Being creative and flexible folks, we came up with plan B... a cup of something hot to drink (coffee for her, chai for me), then we went walking along the path by the beach, snapping photos and sharing stories.
One of the many dreams, reflections, and observations that came up during the walk, was a big "what if" about a house, in a hidden valley in the Catskills with a oh so sweet man. At this point, it was all just a whisper. Now 5 months or so later it's anchors away for Carrie. She is setting sail on the winds of love to other side of the country. That hidden valley and sweet man have become hers, their lives sealed with the secret of a series of fortune cookies. But that was another day, and Carrie's story to tell. Bon voyage Carrie. We west coasters will miss you dearly. Save us a slice of huckleberry pie with lattice crust, cause you know we're coming to visit.

Organic Market Toastada

2006-08-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

Organic Market Toastada
Originally uploaded by nerdsoup.

Oh delicious. A trip to the organic market in Oaxaca, Mexico can get you a build-yer-own organic toastada. Look at this beauty that I created: black beans, cabbage, corn salsa, nopales salad, and guacamole.

The organic market is truly amazing. Favorite stalls included any of the several build-your-own-adventure foods and the yogurt ice cream stand. That stand also made scrumptious mixed nut and seed bars that fueled many students through the long studying hours. I ate my share on bus rides, around the desk, and while cruzing the market.

I think it's really important to support organic foods and farms, especially in countries that are still in the infant state of creating an organic following.

The Many Wonders of Jicama

2006-08-02T19:22:00.000-07:00

I've always know jicama as a slightly sweet vegetable, to be eaten cold with a squeeze of lime and salt. Then one day, I had to rethink this crunchy water laden treat. I was staying at a charming hotel in the beach town of Puerto Escondido with my friend Tiffany. The price of our room included a homemade breakfast. Having had all too many variations of eggs, beans, and cheese, I jumped at the idea of filling my tummy with some ginger vegetable stir-fry. The dish was made of the usual suspects: carrots, broccoli, celery, squash.... but then came the surprise..JICAMA! Imagine the taste of water chestnuts, but better! I was sitting next to the hotel owner Paul, who was raving about using jicama in cooked dishes because they are so cheap and retain their crunch. He was right indeed. I think it's time for all of to think outside the jicama box. Next time you make a stir fry, toss some in. If your not pleased by the flavor, you have need to have your taste buds examined.

Nine Bucks

2006-07-31T09:45:00.000-07:00

Imagine a door stoop, up a cement path and 6 granite stairs. In the middle of two glass doors, is a sturdy old wooden chair. A big one, like grandpa would sit in. On the door of one of the apartments, is a note pad and a pen. Now imagine coming home one day to find this note on the door, and the chair nowhere to be seen. This is exactly what happened to me last week. I did a double take. Chair=zero, Unsolicited dollars= nine. I looked through the window to my front door, and as promised on the note was $9, all in singles, mixed in with the day's mail.
Here's what I found interesting about this. First, the chair wasn't for sale. Secondly, someone decided that rather than steal the chair, they would pay what money they had in their wallet. The note left me to reason that initially they wanted to pay $10, seeming a fair price for a wooden chair, but after looking in their wallet, realized that they only had nine bucks, the other dollar having been spent on a pack of gum earlier in the day.
I saw this as my welcome back to San Francisco. What a strange city we live in. I think I might start putting things out in front of my door, just to see if I can get money for anything else.

Flor de Calabaza Quesadilla en la plancha

2006-07-29T19:18:00.000-07:00

Flor de Calabaza Quesadilla en la plancha
Originally uploaded by nerdsoup.

A local delicacy for good reason. What do you do with so many squash blossoms? Stuff them in quesadillas of course! Oaxaca has an insane pride for its Queso Oaxacano ( a salty string cheese), which they use for all of their quesadillas and an any recipe that calls for cheese. These stands are set up everywhere, selling quesadialls hot off the comal, each one made fresh to order. I want to emphasize that the tortillas aren't premade and reheated, but rather are pressed by hand from the pile of masa, then placed on the comal with all the toppings to get it all good a melty. Quesadilla stands are like the Starbucks of Oaxaca, there are at least two on every corner, each one offering pretty much the same thing. Oh yeah, it's cheaper than a cup of Starbucks coffee. One of these only cost 80 cents. Now that's my kind of fast food.

Meat Alley

2006-07-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

WELCOME TO MEAT ALLEY

Meat Alley in Oaxaca City, Mexico won the taste test for the most flavorful and courageous meal. Meat slabs, bright red and fat laced, hang out on display at hotter than usual room temperatures all day long, waiting to be eaten. To get to Meat Alley, you need to swim through thick greasy smoke and the hustle and bustle of marketplace folks that push in back in an urgency to either eat or sell their wares. I realized one day while walking through Meat Alley on my way to Comedor Abuelita for my usual plate of chicken in mole, I must be missing something. Swarms of folks slurping down Meat Alley tacos just can't be wrong. Every health department whistle was going off: meat at room temp for 10 hours, grilling on twisted hangers above a pile of coals, thick black greasy dust clinging to everything, and no plumbing for washing dishes. This is where I won the award for braving my American paranoia, even if somewhat justified.

Award of courage in hand, it was time to begin the adventure. First stop is the lady who sells produce at the door to meat alley. I buy the mandatory cebollitas (baby onions, like spring onions) and a couple of spicy peppers. Then I go back to the meat stand and choose my slab from all the available options giving me the eye from the inclined plane.

Once I choose my meat and it's weighed up, the butcher motions to a woman who shuffles over and grills all my goods, meat, onions and peppers, on a homemade wire rack. She fans the coals with a palm frond, until the meat is perfectly done.

Like a miracle, the second the meat is finished, another vendor appears, this one selling tortillas. She puts all my food on a big basket lined in industrial pink construction paper. She then adds a dozen thin tortillas, hot off the comal.The only thing missing for the perfect tacos now, are the condiments. I go to yet another stand to purchase a variety of taco toppings by the styrofoam square. Offerings include guacamole, nopales salad, salsa fresca, pickled radishes and carrots. I get the salsa, nopales salad, and guacamole, heading towards the table with a big fat grin.

Look at these perfect tacos. I am drooling writing this, remember the taste of the perfectly juicy and flavorful meat. It was so good that I kept repeating umm, umm umm, like an ancient food lovers chant from the Temple of Gastronomy. Here's how you build the taco. Lay a tortilla down, ripe a few strips of meat of the grilled slab, shred a grilled cebollita on top, then dress with whatever condiments your in the mood for. Roll it up and let the juices drip down your elbows and cover your chin.

Look mom, we ate it all. Now we get the clean plate award too. We were so full we had to waddle home. I can't wait to go back and eat there again. I send out my thanks to the family that directed me to their favorite meat stand, on the first day I decided to brave Meat Alley. She was my Mexican food-loving counterpart, not missing a beat when I interrupted her meal to ask for guidance. She beamed with glee as she pointed to far stand and told me why they were so good, as her left hand wiped taco crumbs from her face. She gave me the a big grin as she saw me chowing down on her favorite meal. I recognized that sense of joy and pride in sharing a food discovery with a fellow foodie. Somethings are international. I can't wait to run in to her someday in SF so I can point her to Pakwan, home of my favorite Pakistani food.

Hi Gary. Nice to eat you!

2006-03-28T11:16:00.000-08:00

Gary Danko
800 Point @Hyde. SF (415) 749-2060
Gary Danko (chef/owner) has created a wonderful dinning experience for an expensive, but worthwhile price. You get the meal by the course option: 3 courses $58 .... 4 courses $68 .... 5 courses $78. Everyone in our group got the five courses, seeing that we are all food-loving chowhounds. The portions are the typical tiny size of fancy restaurants, but they are so delicious and rich, you won't go crying to your momma. I have a confession to make: I am a food sharer. I love to share... but I also love to take things off of other people's plates. Thank God that everyone at our table felt the same. We ended up coming up with the successful method of take a couple of bites, then pass the plate to the left. Figuring that there were five people in our group, we each got to taste 25 different plates by the end of the night. I feel quite qualified to say that this restaurant deserves each of the five stars it has!

To give you a quick highlight of the menu, I will tell you what I ordered: Appetizer Course: Seared Ahi Tuna with Avocado, Nori, Enoki Mushrooms, Asparagus and Tarragon Seafood Course: Seared Sea Scallops with Cauliflower "Risotto", Edamame, Bottarga and Sage Oil Meat Course: Lemon Herb Duck Breast with Duck Hash and Rhubarb Compote Cheese Course: A selection of four artesian cheese from around the world Dessert Course: Chocolate and Citrus Chiboust Cake with Grand Marnier Ice Cream. To compliment the meal, you also get bread and butter, and a plate of petite sweets to finish up. I love the freebies, especially since you know the bill is going to be big. You know the meal is good when you just can't talk and break out in a spell of goose bumps. Wow.

I discovered that I liked something I never thought I'd eat: Pancetta wrapped frog legs. I hate to say it, but they were delicious. Thanks to someone else for being adventurous enough to order them. My favorite dessert was the Crème Brulee Trio with accompanying cookies. The chocolate and vanilla were fine and dandy, but gosh and golly the oolong tea crème brulee had my eyes crossed in ecstasy. If the food hasn't persuaded you enough, then think of the fancy lavender scented bathroom, complete with relaxing music and small fountain.

Another thing is the impeccable timing of the food. We discovered mini cameras about halfway through our meal, which we think aided in the smooth transition from one plate to the next. We were never left waiting or wanting, nor did we feel rushed. At the end of our wonderful meal, the bill was delivered with a miniature Banana Bread for tomorrow, wrapped in gold plastic and ready to go. Another freebie! I suggest you check out Gary Danko's website, it's quite over the top. Not only will you see the menu, but you can download tutorials and recipes from the man himself.
Christ, let me see the menu: garydanko.com

A Duel Birthday for M & M

2006-02-21T07:11:00.000-08:00

The Pizza Party with co-birthday girl Mary was also a great success. We ate tons of pizza and all chated up a storm Kara made some yellow box cake cupcakes with chocolate frosting (my favorite). Amazingly that despite the hard rain, everyone was there ready to fill-up with good conversation, wine, and edible treats. Three long family style tables were filled with friends, only half who knew each other. Every table is covered with white butcher paper and comes with a few cups of crayons. Soon, the drawings and doodles were abundent. Kara showed us a funny little thing that she learned in elementary school, which several people have now added to their bag of party tricks.

It goes like this: (this is all written down, and you ask someone to read it out loud) " M R DUCKS/ M R NOT / O S A R / C D E T B T WINGS/ Y I B / M R DUCKS" This reads like follows, " Them are ducks, them are not, oh yes they are, see the iddy biddy wings, why I be, them are ducks". Your welcome to try this out at your next social gathering. You might win some cool points.

I look forward to more parties with Mary. I think shared birthdays are the best. It feels much more like a party when the attention is shared. I have no idea what I am going to do next year. I do love to plan ahead, considering I only have 6 months until the next birthday celeberation, I better get busy coming up with some ideas!

The Other Melanie

2006-02-21T07:00:00.000-08:00

My cousin Tracy is into family history like me. I love to know all the stories of relatives past and present. Some day I'll buckle-down and do the huge genealogy for my family. Tracy recently passed this photo on to me for my enjoyment. For years I've had a necklace and earring set from old great aunt Ida, of whom I'd never met nor seen a photo of. It's exciting to see someone of whom you are related and whose jewelry you sometimes wear. Even more thrilling than that was seeing my namesake, my grandmothers aunt Melanie. My cousin see a resemblance. I guess I kind of do too. For the record, I wasn't named after her, my Mom just liked the name and that it meant Goddess of the sea. I was born very overdue, finally scared out of the womb by my mother's quick dip in the freezing Humboldt ocean in late January.

A Dream Cake Come True

2006-02-07T10:10:00.000-08:00

I asked for it: A Rice Crispy cake. I believe strongly in the power of suggestion. I showed Cyn a photo from a magazine with a Rice Crispy Cake. She too thought it was snap-crackle-pop and asked for a photocopy. Of course I obliged, but when I returned it, I had written my name and birthday in large black sharpie. Months went by, and I forgot all about this. When My birthday came, the last thing I was expecting was a Rice Crispy Cake with a Stay-Puff marshmallow mascot. Look at how thrilled I am. I cant even keep my eyes open! Cyn you're the best. Thanks for making my dreams come true. Don't doubt that I ate almost the whole thing myself, regardless of stomach aches. It took me two days to polish it off. I think I have three new cavities.

Lovely Little Malia

2006-01-25T19:27:00.000-08:00

I have the most wonderful niece. She is my favorite bagel-going companion. It has become our routine to sneak out of the house early in the morning to go get bagels while they're still hot. This is one of the highlights of my trips up to Eureka. Malia and I also love to dig in the dirt, build forts, prance around in fancy shoes, and talk about the things we like to eat. I was there when Malia was born, an event that made me cry like a blubbering fool. I was lucky enough to spend the first four days of her life snuggling her in the hospital bed next to my sister. She's no longer the fragile thing she used to be, but I try to get a good cuddle in whenever I can. Seeing her only four times a year, leaves me tons of time to miss her. I am looking forward to the day when she can come stay with auntie Melanie in the big ol city of San Francisco. I've always wanted to be the cool aunt who hears the secrets and is a companion foe crazed adventures. She's five now, so I don't have to wait much longer. San Francisco watch out, here we come.

Christmas Morning at Home

2006-01-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

This was the first year that I spent Christmas in the comfort of my own home, as an adult. Finally, in my mid thirties, I figured that it was ok to just loaf in my living room with my boyfriend. No driving, flying, or hustle and bustle. It was Rancho Relaxo at the house. We didn't get out of bed until 11:00, which if you know me, is pretty much a miracle brought by Kris Kringle. This is a shot of Ric and I after we got out of the sack and into hallway. We look oh-so-sleepy, that's what a week of Christmas in Retail will do to you. Next stop... breakfast of pie and hot coco.

Cyn Leo, one of my favorite people on the planet, bought me a sweet-tooth box from Sketch ice cream shop. It included a hot chocolate making kit with homemade marshmallows. These little pillows of puffed sugar had me grinning from ear to ear. There is now comparison to homemade marshmallows, especially when they have bits of coco nibs scattered throughout. Wow. The box also included toffee topped with sea salt, candied and chocolate dipped orange peels, and passion fruit truffles. I've eaten everything already. It made me and all folks who stopped by the house quite delighted.

I got to work making the hot coco...heat up milk, put in chocolate disks, stir, pour in a mug and top with marshmallows. Sip and smile. Nothing goes better with this coco than a slice of pumpkin pie. Bring it on. Look how happy I am. Why didn't I spend more Christmas' at home. I'm converted.

After getting the belly grumbles taken care of, it was off to open presents and lay on the couch. Ric attacked his stocking and all of his gifts, finally passing out on the couch with his new bath robe (thanks Mama Carrasquillo!). I got a matching bathrobe. This is all helping on the quest to adulthood. I think a bathrobe is essential to being a big person. No towels and frumpy pj's for me now.
We took another nap, watched some Mystery Science Theater, then went to a friends for Xmas dinner. It was pouring rain, so we huddled under an umbrella and walked the three blocks to Tammy's where homemade Gumbo, Piroshki, and spiked eggnog were waiting. A lovely time was had by all. Too much eating and just the right amount of gabbing and celebrating. The night ended watching Stripes, the horrible movie with Bill Murray. It was more a film about seeing titties then about the army. Some good laughs but mostly confusion, as our tired and slightly tipsy minds couldn't follow the non sensical plot. At 11:00 we stumbled back to bed for so more sleeping. What a perfect Christmas.

Bay Area Hello (Volume 1)

2005-12-28T19:37:00.000-08:00

This is the first installment of the Bay Area saying hello to Sabrina. We start with the tourists saying hello at Farmer's Market. No matter where you go in SF, you're bound to come across some tourists. They are part of what makes the city what it is. These two were quite anxious to be a part of this project, so much in fact that they volunteered. So a hearty tourist hello.

One of Sabrina's favorite things is Kettle Corn. We can open and eat a whole big bag, despite the aching belly. I wish I could make this photo scratch and sniff, but that's just not possible. Some day I hope to master a kettle corn recipe so I can make it whenever I want. I will make if for all of my friends, most of whom are as addicted to it as I am. If anyone out there is cyber space has a good recipe, please drop me a line. I hankering to make some. Who knows, you may personally benefit

The Pasta Shop, one of SF's finest food places around, has to say hello. They are home to mouth watering homemade raviolis, sheet pasta, sauces, and more. Say hi to the cute man that held up the sign. I thought this was a two for one... a reminder of all the great food here, and all the good looking men. Sabrina, do you want to come home yet?

San Francisco, like so many other cities, takes their coffee seriously. We got a busy hello from our friend Tia who's steaming up the milk for all the orders coming through on the big computer screen in the sky. Go Tia! She couldn't stop the flow, but says her hello with a heart full of love. It wasn't so busy at the local Starbucks late on a Wednesday night.

A picture perfect how-do-ya-do from my neighborhood barista. The bay area, where the coffee is strong, the milk is organic, and the there's a different flavor for every season. Gingerbread Latte anyone? I have to admit, I'm not even a coffee drinker, but I've become hooked on the strong coffee covered up with teeth-rottingly sweet syrups. I always want the smallest coffee in the largest cup, topped with tons of foam. I just adore spooning off all the sweet slightly caffeinated foam. I've become nervous lately that I am going to get a coffee addiction just because I like the foam so much. It's not looked on so fondly when an adult orders a big cup of foam without any coffee. I'm not to concerned about being hip anyways. The foam just tastes better when there's a little coffee in the bottom.

Lastly Erica stands outside the Ferry Building, home to Farmer's Market and the culinary center of SF. I come here to eat breakfast at least once a month. This time the ham,cheese, and egg crepe gets my vote. It was wonderful and worth the long wait in line. Sometimes I go for the Primevera breakfast of Tamales or Huevos Rancheros. They also have a rockin' fish taco with habenero sour cream. Wow. There is a drink that I've been wanting to get that's pineapple and cucumber aqua fresca. It's always sold out by the time I get up to the window to place my order. Some day I will succeed. Most of the times, even when I am ridiculously full, I pick up a doughnut muffin from Downtown Bakery (in Healdsburg). It's a muffin rolled in cinnamon sugar, then deep fried. If you're on a diet, you can always just get your knives sharpened, they even do pruning shears and food processor blades. I say screw the diet and eat some treats.

HOLD UP A MINUTE! This city isn't complete with a quick greeting from Good Vibes, the women owned and run sex shop. So many of us fondly remember our first trip there. Sabrina, I still remember your stories and am laughing out loud. I love that Good Vibes has prominently placed billboards scattered throughout the BART stations. I say why not. Definitely better than guns or frozen dinners.

My perfectly Ugly Tree

2005-12-22T20:53:00.000-08:00

I love my ugly tree. It all came together by fate. I decided to take action on my tree-wanting urges very last minute. Last night, while driving home in the rain, I decided that a tree was needed in my living room. I screeched into the tree lot, asked for the cheapest tree, grabbed the one that winked at me, crammed it into my trunk, and drove off. As I sped away, my watch registered three minutes after my arrival. Upon arriving home, I set out to decorate my acquisition. I thought that we had tons of lights lying around, which proved to be untrue. Carrie (upstairs neighbor and pal) thought she had some extra, but ending up needing all of them. I grabbed the flashlight and headed down into the uber-damp spider infested basement in search of something to illuminate my tree branches. The only lights I found were orange colored Halloween lights on a black cord. To make it more interesting, the lights are the outdoor icicle style, which clump into blobs instead of dangle dramatically when on a Christmas tree. Now it was time for the ornaments. I had bought some silver balls at Target, thinking that they would make for an artistic cool tree. Boring is more like it. The bad news was that the balls did not include the little hooks to hang them. So there I was, a box of balls and no way to put the on the tree. I rummaged through the ribbon drawer until I found something that could work. Now enters the bright orange satin ribbon, tied to each ball. Stop for a second to picture this not so very festive tree..... Scrawny with orange lights and silver balls on orange ribbon. The moment of glory was about to happen: plug in the lights and stand back to oohh and ahhh. No extension cord to be found anywhere. Not to worry, the corner liquor store had one, of course. Back home to plug in the lights, only to find out that the middle section of the lights is burnt out. Crap. I had to dismantle the lights around the fireplace and fill in the blank space made by the burnout bulbs. The good news is that electric blue looks great with orange.

Kara came in to admire the tree and exclaimed that it was lacking a little something. Out came the cardboard and tinfoil: A star was born. To crown the little ugly tree, Kara taped her home made silver tinfoil star to the top. Perfect. Carrie came down from upstairs to gander at the tree. She nailed it when she blurted out that it was a tree that calls out school pride, the colors being that of her old high school. The got a glassy look in her eyes thinking of the mascot and all the rallies of years gone by. She couldn't help but energeticly sing her almamater school song, complete with cheering gestures and a beaming smile the hope of winning. Go Bears.

Life Comes Out Where Things Have Cracked

2005-12-18T19:27:00.000-08:00

I love the simple pleasures in life. I beam, a smile breaking across my face, as I hear the poetry of plants growing out the crack in the sidewalk where the building and walkway meet. I am reminded of the dirt beneath all of our development. I take the metaphor all the way and see that the urge to exist is stronger than the attempt to stop it. In a battle, the slow and curious roots will overtake the unmoving concrete. To be fair, the contrast is needed. This moss wouldn't be calling the attention of passersby if it was just another patch on a fallen redwood, in a deep forest. It takes the harsh concrete to fully appreciate the subtle strength of a plant wishing to make a home for itself.

A Scone In The Lap Is Worth Two In The Bag

2005-12-18T18:58:00.000-08:00

One of the first thing a traveler gets homesick for is food. You miss the flavors of all of your favorites, like the corner taco stand and the artisan bakery. There's nothing like getting a package of foods delivered to you when your in a far off land. If you close your eyes, you can almost taste home. Unfortunately that isn't possible sometimes, especially if the mail will take at least a month to get there and hand delivering it requires a crazy combination of planes and bumpy bus rides. I really wanted to send Sabrina some fresh scones from Arizmendi, but I new that they would be less than wonderful hockey pucks by the time she got them. I opted for the next best thing and sent her their pizza menu (so she could daydream about them) and took a photo of the scone I ate, while all the while chanting her name in hopes that somehow she would start tasting it in Honduras. Sabrina, this one was for you. A perfectly crumbly and still warm rich scone with fresh berries. Also eaten but not pictured... two breadsticks, rolled in olive oil and parmesean cheese. I am awaiting my next Sabrina assigned eating missions. If you are not in SF and miss something you love to eat here, feel free to put in your request. I will take a photo of the food item and eating all the while thinking of you enjoying it.

A Sweet Burden

2005-12-07T20:29:00.000-08:00

I decided recently that I wanted to read all of John Irving and John Steinbecks books. I was aware that this would be a big task, but I didn't realize exactly how large. I went on-line to look up their bibliography, which informed me that I will be reading 27 Steinbeck books and .... I just got up to look at my list (more on that later) to see how many Irving books are ahead of me, and gosh darn it if I didn't misplace it. Bummer. Suffice it to say, I think it's about 15. This means lots of reading. Aha sweet books. Here is a photo of my suitcase full of books that are "on deck". Most of these are not Steinbeck or Irving. I had to change my original intention to read all the books within a year once I found out how many and, how long, the books are. Here's the scoop on the list. I made a convenient list of all of the books so that I could purchase them cheap from used books stores, as I stumbled across them. I highlighted all of the books I already had, leaving the other blank that needed purchasing. Of course the books that have both been purchased and read are crossed out entirely. Now I've either got to find my trusty list, or start it compiling it again. Damn. Hey don't be jealous of my great book holder. You too can come up with a cool vessel for your literature. It's better than a bookshelf.

Family Wall

2005-12-07T20:16:00.000-08:00

Our house is simple. Not a lot of clutter, just enough to make it homey. After our house got repainted, I've been hesitant to poke new holes in the wall, even if it meant not hanging up lots of stuff. I finally got over it and hung up an old photo I had of my mom. This spawned the idea of doing a whole photo wall. Kara, my roomie, and I got together a bunch of photos of family members, putting them in cute frames, and went crazy pounding nails in the wall. We managed to fill up most of a wall in the hallway, and I have to admit it looks pretty great. It's such a treat to see mom and pop every time I stroll down the hall. Here is a photos of Kara standing proud in front of our new creation. "Heart" is spelled out above the photos, cause that's what family should be, don't ya think?

Home Is Where The Slug Is

2005-11-28T19:39:00.000-08:00

I love Los Bagels. I can't think of Arcata without thinking of these perfect bagels. I liked them, even before I liked cream cheese. Lost Bagels is to Arcata what Taquerias are to San Francisco. Everyone talks about it and battles it out for what the best bagel combination is. When I lived in Arcata, I went Los Bagels at least three time every week... for years. The lines were out the door, but eveyone waited for a cup of the Mexican Mocha and the Smoked Salmon Spread made from local salmon. Now I only get to eat the bagels a few times a year. This makes it really hard to decide what to get. My usual are a Slug (a long bagel with no hole and all types of seeds and spices it) or a Poppy Seed Bagel. Sometimes I get the Veggie Delight, a bagel with cream cheese, shredded carrots, olives, chives and Larrupin Mustard Dill Sauce. Other times I get the Tom Onion Slug... like it sounds, a Slug topped with cream cheese, tomato, onion, and Mustard Dill Sauce of course. I need to get out of the rut and order something else, but when I get to Los Bagels after a 5 hour drive, I just want to sink my teeth into something that's familiar and fabulous.
This is a photo of my Tom Onion Slug. It was perfect. I was very happy, even with poppy seeds in my teeth and onion breath. Of course I didn't stop eating with a mere bagel. I also got the divine Poppy Seed Muffin... secret ingredient is coffee. It also has a streusel topping that causes fights. There are really so many great things to eat there, it's hard to say where to begin. Here are some quirks about Los Bagels... 1)They didn't have a toaster for several years after opening. Toasting was just not an option 2) Closed Tuesdays 3)They sponsor a yearly basketball tournament that takes place in the their tiny parking lot with just one hoop and not much running space 4) What does "Los", a Spanish article, have to do with Bagels anyways. I thought bagels are Jewish?
I thought I would put in one last photo. Here is my niece Malia enjoying a bagel. Look at that smile. Pure bliss. She ate the whole thing and still wanted a peanut butter a chocolate chip cookie. A kid after my own heart. I am so thankful to have a place like Los Bagels that reminds me of growing up in Humbodlt County. A taste of home sweet home is found in a toasted Tom Onion Slug washed down with a Mexican Mocha.

Growing Roots

2005-11-23T20:37:00.000-08:00

Being only a day away from a day dedicating to eating (my favorite), I felt I should put a little post about something food related. I am extremely lucky to have a garden of fresh herbs and greens. Each time I eat, I get my shoes wet shuffling across the dew drenched grass, in pursuit of fresh herbs to add the perfect touch to my dish. One time recently, I was making eggs and cut off a larger than needed piece of oregano. I used what I needed, then put the reaming stems in a jar for use in the next few days. Well, things got busy, and I didn't go back to the oregano for a week. Lo and behold, what did that herb do while I was gone... grow ROOTS. This lead me to thinking excitedly of starting little plants for my cooking friends to put in their window box or back yard. I love discovering roots in something I thought I was just sustaining for a few meager days. You might be the first to get a sprig of rooted oregano... maybe even some mint too!

Falling Again

2005-11-21T18:11:00.000-08:00

I know that this is California and we don't have REAL seasons here, but gosh and golly these Fall colors are enough to rival the East Coast. I want to take a trip to New England to be Leaf-Peeker. It's been on my list for years, and one of these days I'll get around to it.

In the meantime I'm naively happy with a couple of vibrantly colored trees that look electrified against a blue sky. With a sight like this, I can't help but marvel at what nature is capable of.

This is my own special pile made from the Japanese Maple by my living room window. Sometimes the leaves even blow into the house from a crack in the window. I get a real kick out of seeing leaves on the carpet and the couch. Outside inviting itself in and making itself at home.

Street Art and Getting Off ...the freeway

2005-11-20T20:12:00.000-08:00

(Hey Sabrina this is for you!) I love street art, and this one especially delighted me. Having these two characters peeking at me as I drive to work, makes my day a little brighter. This particular style of Graffiti is one of things that make San Francisco glow warm in my heart. I discovered this one while taking the long awaited reopening of the Fell street off ramp. I know it's totally stupid to get excited about a freeway off ramp, but I am. I enjoy having the option of taking Van Ness or Fell, usually choosing fell so I can get an eye full of Golden Gate Park on the way to Marin. After writing this I noticed that this specific graffiti was all over the city... Suspiciously like advertising. And well, yes that's what it is. While it is still visually pleasing to look at, it seems a little dirty, not in a good way, cause it's goal is to sell something (a game boy I think).

I mean look at this off ramp, lined with trees and benches, all of which eventually dead ends to a park with a jungle gym to make any kid drool and tantrum like a two year old. And for the adults, you can look at the bone house, made by the same guy who builds these structures at Burning Man. This off ramp has everything, including traffic jams.

Teacher For An Hour

2005-11-19T08:34:00.000-08:00

My friend Sarah asked me to come cook with her fourth grade class. My wheels were spinning for the longest time trying to come up with something that I could cook with kids that didn't require them using knives nor any real cooking equipment, like a stove. Sarah mentioned that they are reading a book about a girl who moves from Mexico to the USA. When I think Mexico, I think tortillas and tamales! What two things do this food items have in common? CORN. So built my presentation around the theme of corn. It was a blast researching corny type facts for the kids. I figured that this group of little ones would, like myself, be wild for popcorn. Half of the information I told them was popcorn based, including why does popcorn pop. Don't think I'm going to just tell you. If you really want to know, google it yourself! The presentation was a hit, especially the corn outfit and the corn snacks I passed around. We ate tortillas, tamales, cornbread, corn nuts, puffed corn cereal, and blue tortilla chips. Sarah called me later that night to say thanks and that the kids learned a lot. I have some thank you cards coming to me in the mail from the students, and I can't wait to read them. I did realize in the end, that even though I went to school to be an elementary school teacher, I am so glad that I only had to do it for an hour. I have oodles of respect and admiration for all the teachers who do this five days a week.

Ode To My Best Friend

2005-11-10T08:31:00.000-08:00

Sabrina is the best. I love so many things about her that I can't even count them on all fingers and toes. I first met her in a movie theater bathroom, where she was suffering from serious period cramps. I was quickly rushing in and out, tyring to get back to my movie, which was in progress. I saw her leaning against the sink and was worried. I asked her if she was ok and if I could do anything to help. She said fine, just cramps. A week later, this bathroom stranger appeared in my world religions class. We sat next to each other and learned the holly ways of the world. We both signed up for a three day stay at a Buddhist monastery, which would earn us an extra unit at school. I stuck it out despite the disgusting food and no talking rule. Sabrina on the other hand, decided it wasn't her cup of green tea and flew the coop, escaping the fortress and attempting to hitchhike the three and a half hours home. She slept in a ditch until the next morning,when our teacher, who was on the way back to the school from the monastery, picked her up. I've always adored her for this. It encapsulates many of the things that makes her who she is: her uncompromising sense of adventure, a lack of fear, fierce independence, and ability to leave before things get dull.

We've been best friends now for almost 12 years. Each year together is sweeter than the last. When I think of being an old lady in a rocking chair talking about the good ol days, Sabrina is always sitting beside me. Right now she's in Honduras learning Spanish for a year with her two year old son Lorenzo. It's going to be a long year without her in the bay area to go on walks and eat Arizemdi with. Besos a mi mejor amiga.

A Living Room Is Born

2005-11-08T08:24:00.000-08:00

For the longest time Kara and I haven't had a living room. The cost of life in the big city is expensive. We decided that rather than pay the extra money, we'd have another roommate. All rooms were occupied, except the kitchen and bathroom. Given the choice, you can probably figure out where we went when we had company over. It was either that, or hang out on the bed with friends. It started to get old having to all squish into the kitchen or bedrooms when wanting to entertain. We held our breath and made the big leap. After a few months of thinking and convincing, we got a living room. Martin, our lovely old roommate, moved out and now I have his old room. My old bedroom has been reborn into a Mint Chocolate Livng Room. One of my co-workers came over and helped me paint both rooms, transforming them from a dull off-white, into a sky blue, mint green, and dark brown. Wow, what a difference paint makes.

The process of getting a living room was a long one, leaving me with lots of time to brainstorm how I wanted to decorated. Kara left on Friday night and by the time she returned 24 hours later, the switch was made. Martin's stuff was out-my stuff was in, the walls were painted, and all the new furniture was delivered and set into place. It's so purty. You'd really have to see it.

This rain has made for perfect movie watching weather. What better place to do it, then in our new living room. We love it and hope you do to. It's hard to realize how much you take something for granite until you don't it. Having a living room in San Francisco has us jumping for joy in appreciation. Well, more like loafing on the coach with tea and old jazz records playing.

This is my new bedroom.. it's pretty swell too.

The Paekakariki Cafe, New Zealand

2005-07-11T08:03:00.000-07:00

We had been driving since sunrise and were beyond hungry. Bitchy, crabby, and ready to eat almost anywhere, except we had no idea where we were. That's when we made a radical turn off the freeway onto the only street around for many miles. Welcome to Paekakariki, New Zealand, a tiny town that hosts a hotel, a corner store, and one place to eat. Like I was saying, at this point we would have gladly eaten greasy hashbrowns and soggy pancakes, thankfully we didn't have to. From the moment I stepped inside The Paekakariki Cafe, it was love. A counter top of homemade pastries lined the counter, a large basket of fresh baked bread above a cutting board of foccacia pizzas, and an extensive breakfast menu of some of the loveliest foods I could ever dream up. I walked up to the counter to order my breakfast, where the woman working was busily making espresso drinks with grace and a smile. With choices like Portobello Creme on Sourdough Toast with Bacon ($15 nzd) and Poached Eggs with Spicy Marinated Vegetables, Roasted Tomatoes, Fried Haloumi Cheese, Hummus and Flat Bread ($16 nzd), it was difficult to make up my mind. I ended up getting a Wild Rabbit and Pistachio Pate with Cumberland Sauce and Crostini ($12.50 nzd).

My breakfast was heaven sent! It was full of flavor, having the perfect balance of sweet, tart, and rich. I had to get a few pastries for the drive and a slice of the foccacia for lunch, because they all looked too good to pass up. The food was so good in fact we drove an hour back the next night for dinner.

regretfully I forgot my camera to take photos of my dinner. You would have drooled. I ordered the Fried Buckwheat Polenta with Wild Mushrooms and Pecorino ($11.5 nzd). Oh My God... a polenta style dish, made from a combination of buckwheat and polenta. WoW. I asked our waitress to try to get the scoop on how it was made. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite sure, but knew that it was a combo of the two ingredients. You can just imagine the perfect paring this made with the wild mushrooms. Let me move on, because that was just the "small plate". For my entree I got Lamb Fillet with Poached Garlic Sauce served with Patatas a lo Pobre and Sauteed Greens. It was divine. Nobody does lamb like New Zealand.

This restaurant is a must if you ever get to New Zealand and your making the long drive from Palmerstone North to Wellington. Slow down , cross the train tracks, and eat at the Paekakariki Cafe. You'll want to shake the chef's hand and tell him that he made your day. I did!

Paekakariki Cafe
9 A Wellington Rd
Paekakariki

Phone: 04-292 8860

Elote anyone?

2005-07-04T23:08:00.000-07:00

It may sound strange, but corn (elote) is delicious when smothered in mayonnaise, dry grated cheese, and chili powder. Add a squeeze of fresh lime for an extra kick. I discovered this gem (thanks to Sabrina) last time I was in Mexico. You get to pick out the corn you want, cooking on the coals. They will grab it for ya, stick a popsicle stick in the bottom, and dress it however you want it. I highly suggest you get the works. Trust me on this one.

I'm just going to be straight with ya, right from the beginning: I eat street food while traveling. Honestly, I have found some of the best food is from the street vendors and public markets. Of course, one always eats with common sense... Choose the busy places that look and smell good. I've never been sick yet. Maybe I've been lucky, but the eating has been marvelous.

Welcome to New Zealand...now what's for dinner?

2005-07-04T18:41:00.000-07:00

I had no idea what the food was going to be like down-under. I didn't feel too bad, because everyone I asked seemed equally ignorant. Having no expectations ended up resulting in much culinary bliss. I am not a big lamb fan, but being in the land of sheep farming, I knew I had to give the beast a good honest taste. I have been converted. I now love lamb.

Workman's Cafe 52 Broadway, Matamata, New Zealand www.workmanscafebar.com

Unlike the states, lamb is on nearly every menu. I started my lamb eating experience with a lamb salad from Workman's Cafe. We found this gem of a cafe in a tiny town whose claim to fame is the hills of hobbit houses from the "Lord of the Rings". The eating options were really rough. We walked up and down both side of the main street, which was populated with deep fried food joints( think jalapeno poppers) and bad wonderbread style bakeries. When I laid my eyes on the crazy mannequin and intriguing chalkboard menu outside of Workman's Cafe, I knew we had found the best lunch in town. To start, I had the Potato Leek Soup ($4), which was rich and creamy with just the perfect amount of spice . Then I was on to my lamb experience.... Lamb Salad with Peanut Sauce and Orange Slices ($9.50). The meat was cooked perfectly and rolled around in a bunch of peanut sauce. It was then added to a cold mixed green salad with orange slices, pumpkin seeds, cucumbers, and red onion. The only downfall of the dish was the wilting of the greens from the hot lamb. That said, it was still wonderful. Unfortunately after my lunch I was too full for dessert. Check out their website for more menu items. Beware that $10NZD=$7USD, so it's not as expensive as it looks.

I did experience a little sheep guilt. I had just been admiring the cute sheep from the car window for several hours before lunch, then I was eating them. After my first serious lamb fest, I never saw sheep the same way. Such cute and delicious creatures.